


Ensnared

by kayliemalinza



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Gen, Haircuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-29
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:15:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayliemalinza/pseuds/kayliemalinza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony gets his hair stuck in a machine and Obadiah has to cut him free.</p><p>Teaser:<br/>"It used to be," says Obadiah in his brassy, ponderous way, "that female factory workers had to pin their hair up." He tilts Tony's head to the left and that brings tears to Tony's eyes, the mixture of warm fingertips with bone beneath like a promise, and the prickling of hairs torn from the root. "If they weren't careful, their hair would get caught in the machines and scalp 'em good."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ensnared

"Son, what have you gotten yourself into now?" Obadiah blocks the overhead lighting when he steps forward, leaving green orbs floating behind Tony's eyelids. There must have been a mix-up the last time he had them replaced. Vision impairment is obnoxious and he's not going to put up with it.

"It's not a big deal," says Tony, shifting so that the points and hollows of the machine align more comfortably with his soft human body. His neck is not happy about this. "Time is an issue, though, so if you could stop playing around, that'd be great. Yeah," he says when Obi finally treads closer. "Fantastic."

Obi's thick fingers press into the nape of his neck, investigating the situation at the hairline, behind the ears, and then beyond that, to where the black hairs scraggle through gadgets and gunk. High-strength epoxy, actually, and a nest of fine, interlocking gears. And his hair, again, tangled in the crannies of everything like it's just another kind of twig the bird picked up. 

"It used to be," says Obadiah in his brassy, ponderous way, "that female factory workers had to pin their hair up." He tilts Tony's head to the left and that brings tears to Tony's eyes, the mixture of warm fingertips with bone beneath like a promise, and the prickling of hairs torn from the root. "If they weren't careful, their hair would get caught in the machines and scalp 'em good."

"Thanks for the history lesson, that's very helpful," says Tony. "Next time I'll be sure to—ow! Ow."

"Steady," Obi says, and lays his heavy palm on Tony's neck. "You're really in a pickle. How long were you stuck like this before I came downstairs?"

"Can you just cut it, please?" Tony says. "Today?"

He recognizes the knife that Obi pulls from his pocket. It has a magnifying glass, watchface, and voice recorder powered by a lithium-ion battery snuggled inside. He made it for Obi one night decades ago and failed an English test the next day.

The blade is four inches long, tapered and self-sharpening, and makes his skin crawl with every soft _snip-snip._


End file.
